


There Can Only Be One Bond.

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels), valuna



Series: Born To The Life [11]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-23
Updated: 2005-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-07 17:56:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels, https://archiveofourown.org/users/valuna/pseuds/valuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pierce is giving up the Bond role; both Gerry and Colin want it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Can Only Be One Bond.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Blood
> 
> Time element: Current day
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a story about vampires. Since we all know vampires don't really exist, then the characters can't be based on real people since those people can't be vampires in a world where such creatures don't exist. We personally don't know anything about these people's lives. Don't care to. In other words, it's fiction, folks, the product of overworked imaginations
> 
> Notes: The family's large. In the beginning was Pierce Brosnan, who had two sons, Sean Bean and Harry Sinclair. Then Sean met up with Peter Wingfield, Marton Csokas and Daragh O'Malley and they became the Four Horsemen; he also knocked up a few mortal women along the way and begat Gerard Butler, Patrick Bergin, Dominic Monaghan, Colin Farrell, Hugo Weaving and Tony Blair. Peter got 'round to begatting James Franco. Marton has Keanu Reeves. You get the point. There are a lot of familiar faces who've been made into vampires for our amusement.

Pierce is positive the most fun he's having with his decision to step aside from the Bond franchise is watching the tabloids debate over who should take up Her Majesty's service, especially when media speculation falls squarely on his grandsons, Colin and Gerry.

Two sides of the same coin, they are, centuries apart in birth, but so alike. Don't tell them that, though. They'd both argue they're nothing alike, as far apart as two brothers can be. And with a few choice words, he can pit them against each other easily enough.

"Did you read the _Genre_ interview?" he asks, sitting in the London house's library. Gerry's pacing, Colin's sprawled in a chair. "Schumacher says you're so alike." He peers over the magazine's edge. "He doesn't know, does he?"

"I didn't tell him." Gerry glares at Colin. "Maybe the brat did. It's something he would do." If Pierce had asked him a year ago if he wanted the Bond role, Gerry would have said no. He didn't want to be in the spotlight. But then Pierce stepped down and it had become a fight. And Gerry wins fights. He always wins fights. And this is a fight that he's going to win. "Try to bring me down with him."

"Brat?" Colin snarls. "M'not a brat, not anymore than you, Glasgow street urchin." He doesn't want to be Bond, has told the tabloids that in no uncertain terms. Or, rather, he didn't, not until Gerry expressed such an interest in it. He doesn't want it, but he sure as hell doesn't want Gerry getting it. Hell, they can let Ewan "Fuck But I'm Great" McGregor have it for all he cares. Just not his older, sycophant brother. "Anyhow, I didn't say word one to anyone 'bout it. Think I'm claiming him as a brother?"

Pierce chuckles, settling back into his chair. _Oh, this is going to be too easy. And such fun._ "I particularly like that he calls you lads. Such a wonderful word."

"Naw, I think you're trying to say that I'm too drunk to be Bond!" Gerry turns to glare at his grandfather. "And I'm not a bloody lad and you know it. I'm fucking twice Colin's age. If anyone's a lad, he is."

"Did I say that? Gerry, please," Pierce says, sarcasm dripping, "we all know you don't do such things. Says so in the article." He'd been fascinated by that bit of lie, in fact.

"Oh, you're a lad," Colin mutters, "crawling boy."

"Only reason I _say_ I don't is so I don't get a rep like Col has." Gerry says, ignoring Colin. Only way to deal with spoiled brats who should have been drowned at birth. "I'm trying to be fucking respectable. That's more than I can say for some people."

"My reputation suits me fine, thank you very much," Colin snaps back. He hates being ignored. "And whose career's doing better. Hmm?" He's far enough from his toddler years to resist sticking his tongue out.

"Mine is." Gerry walks over to where Colin's sitting and stands over him. "Only reasons you're more famous is because you're a drunken brat who knocks up women."

"At least people think I'm _having_ sex." Colin doesn't move, doesn't flinch, just stares at his brother. "Far as anyone knows, you don't ever get any."

Pierce doesn't bother holding back the laugh on that one. Colin has a point, albeit one that's going to get him beaten into the carpet in a moment. "You two really are the pair," he says, putting his paper aside and leaning forward in his chair. "All this preening and posturing to impress me?"

Gerry doesn't even hear Pierce. He's jumped on top of his brother and he's doing his best to strangle the life out of him. "I _do_ have sex," he growls, shoving his head against Colin's and hitting hard. "Every. Fucking. Night!"

"No." Gerry blocks the next blow, but can't quite get to where he wants to. "You fucking bastard. You ruin everything!"

Colin leverages against the chair and pushes Gerry back, scrambling out of position in the few moments he has while Gerry's balance is disrupted. "I didn't fuck up anything. You're the problem. Greedy, arrogant, think you're fuckin' perfect."

"I am perfect." Gerry scrambles after him as soon as he can, but Colin's too far, and Gerry trips again. "I'm bloody perfect, and this part is mine!"

"You're not perfect. You can't even fight well." Colin's laughing at the trip, but then he stumbles over Pierce's foot and ends up flat on his arse at their grandfather's chair.

"Pot," Pierce says, looking down at Colin and then at Gerry, "meet kettle." He shakes his head. "You two are pathetic. Don't know how either of you think you deserve the part."

Gerry wants to go after Colin, but he thinks Pierce'll trip him also. "Who else you gonna give it to?" He asks. "Just me or Colin's in the running. No way you'd give it to a human."

Gerry has a point. No human should have the role. They just wouldn't do it justice, understand all the subtle nuances of playing such an asinine womanizing bastard. Pierce grins, baring teeth, fangs dropping. "So, if I'm to give it to one of you, I'd have to be convinced to make a choice. Impress me, lads."

"Fuck that." Gerry says. "I've been trying to impress you for fucking centuries, Gramps. Hasn't worked yet."

Colin rights himself on the floor, sits up. "Calling him Gramps isn't going to help, brother, dear." He grins, leans in and rubs his cheek against Pierce's leg. "Haven't you learned anything? Sires like being stroked, amused."

"And flattered," Gerry grumbles. "I'm not as servile as you are, Col. I'd rather earn it than get it just because I sucked some cocks."

Pierce reaches down, strokes Colin's head. "Come, now, Gerry," he says, "you should always be willing to use your talents," he smirks, "whatever they might be, to get where you want."

If he inclined to purring, Colin would sound like a cat from the attention. It's rare he gets it from the elders. Instead he glares at Gerry and whimpers a bit.

"I don't want it that much," Gerry grumbles. He sits back on his ankles and debates standing up. But, no, he wants it enough to stay where he is. But not enough to beg. "If you want me to blow you, Pierce, say so. Don't make it sound like you're doing me any favours. We both know that you're not going to decide on who flatters you the most."

"Never know, Gerry," Colin murmurs, nudging his head against Pierce's hand. "You might try it."

"No, no, Colin," Pierce interrupts. "Gerry's right. Flattery and blowjobs only go so far." He twines a finger in Colin's hair and pulls the boy's head back. "It bothers me, though, that my heirs don't get along better. I think you and Gerry should show you just how much you can love each other."

Colin jerks. "What?" He glances over at Gerry, then stares at Pierce. "If you think I'm gonna blow him, guess again."

Gerry scrambles to his feet and backs up against the wall. "_No._ No fucking way. Not blowing him, not fucking him, not anything with him. And not because you fucking said so!"

"Don't tell me you two have never?" Pierce looks between his grandsons.

"Not willingly," Colin snarls.

"Once," Gerry says, voice overlapping with Colin's. "And we're not going it again."

"Then I guess I'll have to consider one of your cousins for the role," Pierce says, sitting back, waiting on the explosion.

Colin stews, rocking back to his heels as Pierce lets go of him. He glares at Gerry. "I am _so_ not getting fucked. Trust me. Don't want any part badly enough to do him."

Gerry looks at Colin in disgust. "It's an empty threat, Col. Who else is gonna do it? James? He wouldn't touch the role with a ten foot pole. He's gotta choose one of us and it's not going to be on who rolls over for the other. Which," he goes on, "I'm never doing for you. So forget about it."

"Interesting dilemma." Pierce relaxes into the wingback chair's flamestitch pattern, steeples his fingers. "You could call your father, Gerry, and ask him. Or perhaps your Uncle Harry, Colin." He grins, fangs exposed again. "I do not make empty threats."

"Or I could write a tell-all and sell it for millions," Gerry says, "and then get ripped to pieces by the rest of you. I think that'd be preferable to fucking my brother."

"Damn straight it'd be preferable. Fuck." Colin pulls himself up to the nearest chair. He's not about to be the first to admit he wouldn't mind a go at his brother again. Wasn't _that_ bad the first time.

"Now, boys, I've had both of you and individually you're not bad," Pierce says, upping the ante a bit. "I can't imagine why you wouldn't be exceptional put together."

"Wait a minute." Gerry puts his hand up. "Where are you in this equation? You want a threesome, Pierce? Fine, I'm there. But I'm not fucking Colin."

"Threesome? That might work." Pierce leans forward. "But then who's on top? You bottom, Gerry? Colin," he pauses, "oh, I'm sure you do."

"Wait a minute." Colin starts to protest, but realizes it's self-defeating. "Not just for anyone. And not," he points to Gerry, "for him. Not again."

"You're on top, Pierce. That alone is obvious." Gerry sneers. "And the brat is all the way on the bottom."

"Brat's on the bottom," Pierce echoes. "Don't argue, Colin. You know you want it."

Colin whimpers, but he's beyond denying what he wants. "C'mon, then, get it the fuck over."

Gerry nods. "I'm with him on this one. Let's get this over with." He glances towards Pierce. "Direct on, oh great and powerful Bond. Where do you want us?"

"Eager's nice, Gerry, but demanding isn't a trait you should cultivate, you or Colin. Patience has its rewards." Pierce grins. "As for where I want you, over here, undressing me would be a good start."

"If I haven't learned patience by now, you think I'm going to learn in five minutes?" Gerry walks over to Pierce and starts on his knees where he knows Pierce likes him best. He tugs on the laces of Pierce's shoes and loosens it.

Colin's smirking, but watching, not sure which is turning him on him, hardening his cock, Gerry on his knees or that it could be him there. Or maybe it's both. He drops to the floor and starts crawling, a drunken crawl even though he's sober.

_About time Colin joined the party._ Gerry eases Pierce's shoes off and then looks up at Pierce. "Shirt or trousers first?"

Pierce gives Gerry a look that would wither wisteria on the vine in spring. "How many centuries and you still don't know the proper valet services." He makes a tsking noise. Colin laughs and is rewarded with a glare. "Don't you start. You're no better."

"Shirt first," Colin says, kneeling up at Pierce's leg. "Slowly unbutton." He smiles at the odd look he gets from Pierce. "Uncle Marton went on this service kick turn of the century. I learned a lot more than I wanted."

"Thankfully, I was out of the country." Gerry leaves the shirt to Colin. _If he's so bloody great at being a valet, he can damn well do it himself._ "Staying away from you people generally saves me aggravation and blood."

Colin's content to let Pierce and Gerry banter while he occupies himself with stripping his grandsire. It's safer, and there's a strange part of his brain that gets off on it. Not that he's going to admit it aloud to anyone. Ever. He's standing now, working the sleeves of Pierce's shirt down over the arms, and then he's folding it and draping it over the back of the chair.

Pierce lays his hand against Gerry's cheek. "You _are_ missed when you're not here." He strokes his fingers down over Gerry's jaw. "Do you really hate us that much, lad?"

"Not hate," Gerry answers. "Hate's too strong. Loathe, maybe. At times." Like all families, he supposes. There are days when he can't stand the sight of them. "Other times, I just want to be home."

"Family. We all play such a game with each other. I love your father and his brother, but they drive me insane at times. However," Pierce says, rubbing his thumb over Gerry's lips, "if I stay away too long, I find myself craving their companionship.

Gerry nips at Pierce's thumb. "Me too." It's odd, having something like that in common with his grandfather. He'd never expected that.

The nip's not nearly enough to hurt, or even cause wince. Instead Pierce grins, baring fangs. "It has been far too long since I tasted you. I think we should remedy that." He glances down at Colin, who's returned to his knees and is working Pierce's trousers down over thighs. "As soon as Colin's finished."

"A little help, grandsire," Colin says, putting a heavy accent on the words, "and it'll be a lot easier. Lift your foot for me." Pierce does, one then the other, and Colin pulls the trousers and silk boxers down and off, folding them and adding them to the shirt. "There." He kisses the outer edge of Pierce's thigh. "All undressed."

Gerry can't count the number of times he's seen Pierce naked, but he stares at Pierce's body and licks his lips. "Yes. Taste me." In the back of his head, there's calculation. If he tastes good enough, Pierce might give him the part. But he doesn't care about that. He's a vampire, he's young, and he wants Pierce to fuck him and bite him and claw at him.

It's more than fun playing one against the other. Pierce rakes his nail down over Gerry's throat, cutting in and drawing blood. He swipes his finger through it and holds it down, pressing it against Colin's lips. "We shall all taste each other tonight," Pierce says. "There is strength in family, in more ways than one."

Colin sucks at Pierce's finger. _Oh, fuck, yes._ It's rare he gets to taste Gerry's blood. Very rare. And it stings his tongue. "Please," he says, almost a whimper, licking along Pierce's thigh as he kneels up, "more."

No! Colin shouldn't get his blood. It's for Pierce. Gerry bares his teeth and grabs Pierce's wrist. "You. Not him. You."

Pierce turns his hand quickly, seizing Gerry's fingers and tightening in on them, squeezing hard. "Gerard, do not think that you can dictate the way the game is played." He brings his other hand up and rakes his thumbnail over his arm. "Drink."

Pierce's blood wells up and Gerry drinks eagerly, not caring about the rebuke.

"That's a good lad," Pierce murmurs, hissing as the blood's drawn out. Never fails to hurt. He can feel Colin's tongue nearing his cock. He's hard and heavy and wanting what the young vampire offers. "Both of you, such good boys when you want to be."

Colin licks the length of the shaft and then wraps his lips around the head, sucking gently. He can be patient when he needs to be, wait for his turn at blood. It's easy, the bare drops of Gerry's blood igniting his brain enough already.

So hot, so _good_. Tastes like winter and family. Gerry widens the cut with his teeth, sucking hard.

It's rare Pierce allows himself such pleasure, being sucked both at wrist and cock. An indulgence he's encouraging, his hand going to Colin's head and stroking through the light strands. "A bit more enthusiasm, Colin."

The words are met with a nod and Colin moves forward, deepthroating his grandsire and sucking harder, letting his teeth graze over the top as he pulls back.

"Oh, yes, much better," Pierce murmurs, wincing as Gerry cuts through flesh again. He turns his head. "For every ounce you take, Gerry, I will take it back twofold. You best be careful."

Careful? Gerry shakes his head, drinks more. He _wants_ Pierce to take it back. He wants Pierce to drink and bite. And he can't stop. It's too good, and the knowledge of Colin blowing Pierce at the same time is intoxicating.

Colin gets brave, letting his fangs rake a bit harder, break the flesh and draw blood. Pierce flinches, a brief shudder of realization at what his grandson's done. "Such brazen children my family's fostered," he says, already feeling the blood seep out and mix with the precum leaking from his cock into Colin's mouth. "Stop now, Gerry. Give me your throat."

Gerry can feel it when Colin's fangs break the skin and he can't help but smile. He and his brother, despite all their differences, do have things in common. Gerry stops on command and licks his lips. "How do you want me?"

"Turn around," Pierce says. "I'm feeling classically vampiric at the moment."

Gerry rolls his eyes. _Of course you are._ He turns around and lifts his arms above his head, tilts his neck to one side. "Anything else, grandsire? Should I wear a revealing white negligee?"

Pierce wraps his arm around Gerry's waist and tugs him back. "Of all the ways I can imagine you, Gerry," he says, licking Gerry's throat, "in a negligee is so far down the list as to not exist."

Colin laughs, the ripple humming along Pierce's cock. He can feel his grandsire's close, but he knows too well how long vampires can hold out when they're intent on it.

Gerry grins, and arches his neck more, exaggerating it to the maximum. "That's nice to know, Pierce. Now I can rip up _someone's_ Victoria's Secret catalouges."

Colin tries very hard not to laugh. He knows about those catalogues. He pulls back slightly, licking the tip of Pierce's cock and then sinking back down its length.

"Gerry, you are incorrigible." Pierce licks again. "I find it annoying at the moment." He bites without more ceremony, digging his fangs in deep, knowing it hurts, not caring. His grandson will love it, he's sure.

Gerry likes annoying. Annoying doesn't get him flayed alive. And he loves Pierce's teeth in his throat. Fucking loves it.

Pierce tears at the flesh, making the wound twice as big as it should be, and he drinks, long and sucking draws of blood into his mouth. He'll be sated, past saturation, in a matter of moments. Just enough time to spill into Colin's mouth. Timing's perfect. When he feels Gerry slipping into the edges of sanguine unconsciousness, he comes.

Colin can scarce take it, and he wraps his hands around Pierce's thighs, holding tight against the pulses at the back of his throat. _Fuck. Worse than blood. Too much._

Losing blood can be fun, but Pierce is taking too much, far too much. Gerry's vision is going black at the edges, and he knows he's slipping away. Wonders with a barely conscious thought if that's what Pierce has wanted all along.

Unconscious would be nice, Pierce thinks, but it's not where he wants Gerry. This side of depleted is perfect, just where Gerry needs to be. "Feels good, doesn't it, lad?" Pierce whispers, licking over the wound, sealing it. "Giving up so much." He glances down. "Enough, Colin. I believe your brother could use a bit of attention."

"Sir?" Colin asks, pulling back. "I touch Gerry and he'll have my head on a platter."

"Really? I don't think so." Pierce's arm tightens around Gerry's body. "I could drain you, but I won't. I think I've made my point."

If Gerry could think, he'd echo Colin. No way he's letting his brother touch him. But the world is so heavy now...so heavy and dark and comfortable. It's easy to relax into Pierce's arms, let him control what happens now.

"I don't think Gerry will mind at all, Colin." Pierce kisses Gerry's throat. "And you want him, don't you?"

"Yeah," Colin says, standing. For all his posturing and defensiveness, he _does_ want his brother. "Want him to fuck me."

"Out...of the question." Comes out in a long slur, but Gerry knows that his grandfather and brother understand him. But it's out of the question because Gerry's too tired, not because he doesn't want to. Not that he'll ever say that.

Pierce laughs, a low dry chortle. "I believe we've exhausted young Gerry. Perhaps you should fuck him, Colin," he says, "while he's draped over my lap."

Colin grins. He knows that suggestion's gonna hit the wall. Hard. And be slammed back with a mighty force. "Grandsire, I really don't want him killing me," he says. "Maybe just a quick blowjob'll work."

Gerry's glad Colin rejected the offer. He'd hate to have to kill his brother right now. Maybe tomorrow, when he hasn't just been fucking drained by Pierce. But a blowjob's a good idea. As long as Colin's the one offering.

Colin moves around to stand in front of Gerry. "Don't suppose I could get you on your knees right now, brother?" He slides his hand over Pierce's hand and onto Gerry's shirt.

Gerry shakes his head, but leans into Colin's hand. Warm. He thinks he can smell Colin's blood.

"S'alright." Colin leans in, whispers against Gerry's lips. "I'll take repayment later for sucking you off now." He kisses Gerry very softly.

Gerry doesn't like the sound of repayment, but he does like Colin's lips against his. Gerry growls low in his throat. He can _hear_ Colin's blood now, or thinks he can. And he's so thirty, so tired and so thirsty. His fangs brush over his lip. "Brother..."

Pierce is smiling, and not letting go of Gerry's body. He's not sure the boy can stand on his own, plus he likes this, caressing when he normally can't get within more than a few feet of these children.

Colin licks over the drop of blood on Gerry's lip. "You taste delicious, brother," he whispers, deepening the kiss as his hand slides down, under clothes and palms Gerry's cock, pressing hard.

Gerry moans into Colin's mouth, his fangs sliding against whatever skin is near, and he tastes blood. _So good...what I need. Exactly what I need._ He can't taste if the blood is his or Colin's, but he doesn't care. It's Colin's hand down his pants, and it feels better than it ever has before.

Colin bites the inside of his mouth, brings forth the blood to fill Gerry's throat as he strokes him off. Quick, hard strokes. He's forgetting the blow. This is better, having Gerry's mouth on his, taking what they both need. It'll make coming so much easier later, when their grandsire's finished with them.

Gerry swallows instinctively, and tries to suck on Colin's mouth, to bring more blood. It doesn't quite work, but Colin tastes good, and he feels good, and Gerry's too hard to think about anything else.

Gerry's not going to be hard for long. Colin's making sure of that, his wrist twisting in the confines of denim, jerking Gerry's cock. He pulls out of the kiss, purposely bites his lip hard, murmuring through the trickle of blood. "Want to come? Like this?"

"Yes..." And with that, Gerry thrusts into Colin's hand and comes, swallowing that last bit of blood.

"Good lads," Pierce whispers, having been quietly holding and watching for minutes.

Colin doesn't stop his stroking until Gerry's finished, with blood and coming, and then he pulls his hand up, licks at his fingers. "Not your blood, Gerry, but it'll do for the moment."

"Nng." Everything's slowly coming back. There's Pierce. Pierce drained him. And Colin, who gave him blood and a handjob. Gerry grins. "Thanks, Col."

"You're welcome, Gerry." Colin grins. He's hard, but it's not something he'll fuss about. Not too much. He's used to being left this way; favorite pastime of Daragh and Marton, to make him see long he can go without coming. But he is hungry. And he's doubtful he's going to get blood out of either Pierce or Gerry, so he starts calculating on who's in the house right now.

Gerry nods and curls in on Pierce, smiles up at his grandfather. "Decide yet, Pierce? One of us, none of us?"

Pierce draws in a breath. "Both of you," he says, after a long minute. "The elder child gets it now and the younger can have it after five films."

Elder child. That means Gerry. He leans in and nuzzles Pierce's chest. "Thank you, grandsire."

Colin grins. He'll bide his time, coerce his brother into letting him be a villain in the meantime.

Gerry turns and looks at Colin. "You...you fine with this?" He shouldn't ask, normally wouldn't, but it's been a long night. He isn't thinking clearly.

"Yes." Colin tilts his head. "And no. You're better for it, Gerry," he says, Irish brogue heavy and smile wide, "plus we can always get me those random cameo villain spots."


End file.
